


Jump Through the Fire

by Luka



Series: Iceman [7]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-27
Updated: 2008-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  Lyle delivers a bombshell to Stephen and Ryan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump Through the Fire

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[ditzy](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/ditzy), [fiction](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/fiction), [iceman](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/iceman), [lyle](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/lyle), [nick](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/nick), [ryan](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/ryan), [series](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/series), [slash](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [stephen](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/tag/stephen)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Title:  Jump Through the Fire  
Author: Luka  
Characters: Stephen Hart, Tom Ryan, Jon Lyle, Ditzy, Nick Cutter.  
Rating: 18  
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just playing and won't make a penny out of them. I'll put them back when I'm finished, honest!  
Spoilers: None  
Pairing: Stephen/Ryan  
Summary:  Lyle delivers a bombshell to Stephen and Ryan  
A/N: Number seven in The Iceman series. Jon Lyle and the other SF lads appear by kind permission of [](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/profile)[**fredbassett**](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/). There are links to the earlier stories under the cut. Thanks to the lovely [](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/profile)[**fredbassett**](http://fredbassett.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

[](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/2008.html#cutid1)

  
[A Fire is Burning](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/2008.html#cutid1)   
[We Could Leave Right Now](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/4534.html#cutid1)   
[This Year Next Year](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/4748.html#cutid1)   
[All That Way for This](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/5207.html#cutid1)   
[Ways of Holding On](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/6901.html#cutid1)   
[Someone You Might Have Been](http://lukadreaming.livejournal.com/7648.html#cutid1)

  
Stephen pushed off from the top of the hill and freewheeled all the way down to the bottom. He wanted a pint of Guinness and he wanted it now.

Ditzy skidded to a halt beside him. "My stomach thinks my sodding throat's been cut."

"I'd kill for a pint."

"The bad news is that the beer in this place tastes like gnat's piss. The good news is that the food's not bad. At least, not if you smother it in ketchup, close your eyes and shovel it down quickly. A word of warning about the bogs, though. Don't look down, and if you're lucky, it won't follow you …"

"Thank you Gordon Ramsey …"

Ditzy grinned and then rolled his eyes as Finn hurtled past them, narrowly avoiding flying over the handlebars as he jammed the brakes on. "If that lad had a brain, he'd be dangerous."

It had taken Stephen a little while to get used to his social life being gatecrashed by the Special Forces team. He'd expected them to go their separate ways when they were off-duty, but in fact they spent a lot of time socialising together. So quite often when he turned up at Ryan's, he found himself being whisked off to the pub, or a barbecue, or on a mountain bike expedition. He envied Ryan that close and supportive network, but he had to admit they'd accepted him without batting an eyelid.

As he'd driven down on the Friday night, Stephen had secretly hoped he and Ryan could have a quiet bank holiday weekend. The constant tension between him and Nick was tiring, and he wanted a few days of sex and relaxation. He'd had plenty of the former the Friday evening, but none of the latter the next day, as Ryan had loaded the bikes onto the Land Rover and driven to Symonds Yat where they'd found a welcoming party in the shape of Lyle, Ditzy, Finn and Blade.

Stephen gathered that they had a 15-mile route – small potatoes for the soldiers – planned out, with a barbecue and several pubs along the way. The weather was gorgeous and the area surprisingly quiet for a bank holiday weekend. Stephen grabbed his rucksack from the front seat and decided he was going with the flow.

***  


Ryan snaffled the last sausage from under Lyle's nose. Stephen was lying on his front, chin propped on his hands. The sun had caught his face and brought out the light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. And he looked relaxed, laughing at some scurrilous story Ditzy was telling about Finn, a field of cows and a vicar.

"You're a jammy fucker, Ryan." Lyle peeled a banana and demolished it in two mouthfuls. His voice was low enough not to carry to the others, who were taking the piss out of Finn as he tried to do a headstand and drink a glass of water at the same time.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. My money was on you and the Iceman being a one-night stand. But you've obviously melted his stony heart."

"Stephen's got a name. Use it."

Lyle raised his eyebrows and seemed about to make a smart-arse comment. Instead he shrugged and nodded towards the ring on Ryan's finger. "Gonna take him up the aisle, so to speak?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Ever thought of a job writing headlines for The Sun?"

"The money'd be good and I wouldn't get eaten by monsters. Well?"

"Maybe."

"Do it. He's a good lad." Lyle lay back and closed his eyes, signalling the end of the conversation.

Ryan watched him thoughtfully. There was something going on with Lyle and he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He was usually the life and soul of the party, and could be relied on to defuse any tension in the group. At the moment, though, he seemed on edge, and his usual jokey humour was threatening, at times, to tip over into the cruel. Ryan had already had to break up a spat earlier between Lyle and Ditzy that had come out of nowhere. And he'd heard mutters on the grapevine earlier in the week from some of Lyle's team that their usually sane lieutenant was behaving like a twat.

Ryan suppressed a smile. If Ditzy's no-nonsense girlfriend Claire and several of the other female partners were around, they'd have cross-examined Lyle 'til he cracked. Blokes, no matter how good friends they were, bought their mate a pint and steadfastly avoided anything that smacked of personal talk.

***  


"That was fun." Stephen wandered out of the shower, a towel wrapped round his waist. He looked good enough to eat.

"Yeah, they're a sound bunch." Ryan lay back and enjoyed the show as Stephen ran his fingers through his spiky hair, then finished drying his long, tanned limbs. He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he was having on Ryan.

"So what we got planned for tomorrow?" Stephen hung the towel on the radiator and joined Ryan under the duvet.

Ryan kissed him thoroughly, feeling Stephen entwining their bodies. It felt like the scientist was trying to make them one. "Thought we'd have a quiet day. Fancy a pub lunch?"

"Sounds great." Stephen's fingers were wrapped around Ryan's cock.

"Hang on …" Ryan handed him the lubricant and watched as Stephen stroked it the full length of his prick.

"How d'you want me?"

"On your side."

Ryan eased into Stephen gently, kissing his shoulders and linking their left hands. It was a change from their usual vigorous, energetic sex as Ryan, once he was buried deep, barely moved, letting Stephen writhe and moan and do all the work. Watching that gorgeous arse impaled and stretched on his cock almost brought Ryan off immediately. But he closed his eyes, thought of Lester and Cutter in bed together, and successfully delayed his climax until he felt Stephen coming, clenching tight around his cock.

"OK?" whispered Ryan, feeling Stephen trembling in his arms.

Stephen twisted round so they could kiss. "Perfect," he breathed.

***  


Ryan sat bolt upright, knowing immediately that there was someone in the room. Lyle was sitting on the bedroom windowsill.

"You're getting slow, Ryan … I've been here for five minutes."

Ryan knew immediately that Lyle was absolutely hammered. "How the fuck did you get in?"

"You want to make sure your bathroom window's closed before you go to bed."

Ryan shook his head in disbelief. The window was a fanlight nowhere near a flat roof. Only Lyle, an experienced caver, would attempt a scramble up a drainpipe while drunk.

"If it was that important you could have used the front door, or the telephone." Next to him Ryan could sense Stephen was awake. He snapped the bedside light on.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"What d'you want, Jon? It's 3fuckingam."

"I'm bored. I fancy some witty conversation. Or what about a threesome? Your pretty boy'd look amazing with my cock down his throat while you're doing him hard up the arse."

"Fuck off, Lyle!" Stephen was white with anger. "I'm not some plaything for soldiers to wank over."

"Oh, I dunno. The captain'd make a fortune pimping you. They'd be lining up to make you scream. And you _are_ a screamer under that icy exterior, aren't you, Dr Hart?"

Stephen hurled himself at Lyle, but Ryan was faster, getting his body in between them.  "Jon, shut your fucking mouth!"

"Don't mind me, lads. I'll just sit here and watch. I'm dying to see how the captain gets his donkey dick up your tight little arse …"

"You'll get the fuck out of my house. Now."

"Yeah, sure, whatever …" Lyle stood up and slid gracefully onto the floor.

"Fucking pisshead!" snapped Ryan. Unceremoniously he slung Lyle over his shoulder and carried him through to the spare room where he dumped him on the bed. He arranged him in the recovery position, a bowl within easy reach. The stupid fucker deserved to choke on his own vomit but if he did, thought Ryan sardonically, the paperwork would be a nightmare.

***  


Ryan was in the kitchen getting the breakfast on the go when Lyle appeared, looking like death warmed up. He turned a delicate shade of green at the sight of eggs, bacon and sausages, and exited hastily. When he came back a few minutes later, his hair and face were wet.

Ryan looked up briefly as he flipped the bacon over. "I should string you up by the fucking balls for this caper …"

"I know. Sorry, boss." And the fact he'd called Ryan boss told them both that he knew just what he'd done.

"You should be fucking apologising to Stephen for what you said to him."

"I will do."

"You're a grade A fuckwit."

"Can't argue with that."

"How much did you drink?"

Lyle shrugged. "Too fucking much."

"Why?"

"Because."

Ryan sighed and set a mug of black coffee down in front of Lyle. He glanced up to see Stephen in the doorway, a look of dislike on his face.

"Hey. Good timing." Ryan set down two plates of food and started tucking in to one himself. After a moment or so Stephen joined him, studiously ignoring Lyle, who'd chased down the coffee with a pint of water.

"Stephen, I'm sorry about what I said to you …"

Stephen didn't look up. "Yeah. OK."

"It's not OK. I was bang out of order and I shouldn't have said it."

Stephen nodded and diced a sausage into minute portions. And Ryan wanted to kill Lyle slowly and painfully. It looked like the stupid fucker had undone all Ryan's hard work with one drunken comment. Stephen would never believe that Ryan didn't talk about their sex life to the others and that he wanted him for more than just his gorgeous looks and body.

"Stephen, I …"

"Shut up, Lyle. What d'you expect him to say after all that filth you poured out about him? Keep your fucking mouth shut in future."

Lyle drank the last mouthful of water and pushed the glass aside. Without preamble he said: "Me and Lester are fucking."

"How the fuck …?' Ryan was rarely lost for words, but there was a first time for everything.

"I didn't expect to have to give you elaborate descriptions." There was no humour in Lyle's eyes, though.

"You know what I meant."

Lyle shrugged. "Yeah."

"Since when?"

"Past month."

"Whose idea?"

"We both wanted it."

"I thought he was married."

"He is. Marriage of convenience, by the sound of it. His wife's down in rural Wiltshire and the sprogs are away at school." He looked up and said: "I spend 30-whatever years assuming I'm straight and then find myself in bed with another man. And you know what, it's fucking amazing."

"Then what's with all this shit?"

Lyle shrugged. "You tell me." He stood up suddenly, his eyes cold and his face expressionless. "I'm out of here. Sorry about all the shit, Stephen. And I'll see you Tuesday, Ryan."

The front door slammed behind him. Stephen stood up and said: "I'd better be going as well."

"Oh no you don't … If you reckon you're running away again, you've got another think coming."

"I'm not …"

"Listen to me. Stephen. Do you honestly think I'd talk about our sex life to the other lads?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do. I saw your face when Lyle was spouting all that drunken shit. You assumed from what he said that I was treating all this as a joke and that I'd only got you into bed because you're so fucking gorgeous. Do you really believe that?"

Stephen sat down again. "Of course I don't." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. And I'm sorry … I was just frightened that …"

Ryan stood behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head. Stephen let out a strangled sob and entwined their fingers. "Hey, come on. Look, I promised Sadie I'd do some DIY for her, but it's a two-man job, so will you come and give me a hand? Then we'll go to the Crown for lunch. I need a stiff drink to recover from Lyle's bombshell."

Stephen stood up and nodded. He was still clinging onto Ryan's hand, long fingers touching and stroking the gold ring. Ryan tousled his hair. "Let's get going. With a bit of luck we'll get coffee and fresh cookies as a reward for the DIY."

***  


Halfway to the Crown and Ryan had the sudden thought that it might be a bad choice of venue if any of the lads were there. But when they arrived, it was pretty quiet considering it was Sunday. The landlord, who was ex-SAS, took their order and pointed them to the most secluded table in the garden.

Ryan swallowed half of his pint in one go. "Bloody hell, I needed that."

Stephen laughed, drinking his more circumspectly. "I reckon we should have gone for the double brandies instead."

"God, yes, for shock …"

"Got to admit it's an image that'll be stuck in my mind for a while."

"Yeah. Maybe Lester's dynamite in bed."

"And maybe dinosaurs still walk the earth …"

They burst out laughing and earned themselves some odd looks from the landlord's wife as she set the food down in front of them. Ryan made inroads into his before saying: "Lyle's not usually such a fuckwit. And he's certainly never nasty as a rule. I'm sorry it was directed at you."

Stephen shrugged. "I'll survive."

The two words carried myriad meanings, and Ryan knew they didn't want to go there at that moment. Instead he nodded and they finished their meal in silence.

Stephen said: "Must be something in the bloody water in Hereford. You're not going to tell me that Ditzy and Kermit are an item, are you?"

Ryan laughed. "Fuck, no. Ditzy's got this amazingly sane girlfriend called Claire who doesn't take any crap off him. And Kermit's married with a sprog."

"Bloody hell, he doesn't look old enough!"

"He's 25."

"I still can't believe it about …"

"Don't bother to say your gaydar never picked it up, as we know it's permanently dismantled on the living room floor with enough pieces left over to make a toaster, an iPod and two kettles."

Stephen gave him the finger. "Only more unlikely pairing than Lester and Lyle would be Lester and Connor!"

"Are you trying to put me off my pint on purpose?"

"You reckon it'll last?"

Ryan shrugged, knowing it was a serious question. "No idea. Lyle's never kept a girlfriend longer than three months. And I can't see Lester turning up to posh events with his bit of rough on his arm."

"You reckon that's what it is?"

"Maybe. But I'm not asking Jon that."

***  


The campus was almost deserted, as the students were off revising for exams. Stephen and Nick had caught up on a lot of the paperwork. And they were back in the same office – Stephen had come back from the weekend away to find his belongings piled on his old desk. Nick hadn't said anything, but Stephen knew he was watching him for a response. He didn't have the energy, though, to deal with Nick's angst, so simply sat down and started marking some first year lab reports.

At about 11am Nick set a bacon bap and a cup of tea down beside him.

"Thanks." Stephen looked up briefly.

"Good weekend?"

"Yes thanks. We went cycling."

"You've caught the sun as usual."

Stephen nodded, and took a mouthful of the tea. He knew he should ask Nick about his weekend, but he realised he wasn't that interested. At some stage he was going to have to do some thinking about where his career went next. All he knew was that he didn't want to be stuck in this office with Nick when the next academic year started.

***  


"Hello, Stephen." Stephen spun around. Lyle was perched on the wall by the Earth Sciences building, looking substantially healthier than when he'd seen him last.

"Hello." Stephen barely broke stride. It was 5pm and he wanted to go home, go for a run, have something to eat, and then phone Ryan.

"You got time for a pint?"

"No."

"I'm buying. And I want to pick your brain."

Stephen hesitated, intrigued in spite of himself. "Why?"

"Because my world's gone mad," said Lyle candidly.

Stephen was disarmed by the soldier's honesty. "OK. We'll go across the road where there's a fighting chance of a decent pint and making ourselves heard."

At lunchtimes the pub was full of the university crowd, but early evening it was always quiet. They bagged a table in the far corner with a view over the several square metres of concrete that was described optimistically by Stan, the ever-cheerful landlord, as the garden.

Lyle set pints down in front of them, and dumped a couple of bags of crisps on the table. "Do they serve food in here?"

"Not until later."

Lyle opened one of the packs of crisps and ate a handful. "Sorry again about all that shit at the weekend."

"So you've said. You want to cut to the chase and tell me what all this is about?"

Lyle shrugged. "How many people know about you and Ryan?"

Stephen noticed the question was answered with another question, but let it go for the moment. "You and the other lads, Cutter, Abby. I assume Connor does, but he's never said anything. And Tom's family know."

Lyle raised his eyebrows. "Have you met them?"

"Yep."

"Wow. Then it is serious."

Stephen shrugged, and drank some of his pint.

"You're bloody lucky, Stephen. Ryan's a great guy. I hope you both make a go of it."

"We will." It was out before Stephen could think twice. And then he realised where the conversation was going. "So what about you and Lester?"

Lyle shrugged, drained his glass and went to the bar for refills, despite the fact Stephen hadn't even drunk half of his pint.

"Well?" Stephen pushed the fresh pint to one side.

"If you want the truth, I can't see any fucking way it's going to work. A civil service high-flyer's hardly going to be able to be honest about his bit of rough on the side, is he?"

"I don't know. It's been going on for a month?"

"Yep."

"How often have you seen him?"

"Every weekend and at least once during the week."

"Doesn't sound like a one-night stand to me, then."

Lyle shrugged again.

Stephen ate a couple of the crisps. "So what's this about? Are you freaked out by the fact that you're a queer?"

"No!" But the response seemed almost too quick.

"Have you talked to Lester about it?"

"Of course not. Have you always known you're gay?"

"Pretty much. I've slept with a few women, but I knew it wasn't what I wanted. I assume this is your first time with a bloke?"

Lyle nodded, reducing a stray crisp to crumbs.

"Jon, there are bound to be comments behind your back or occasionally to your face. Live with it. Most people won't give a flying fuck who you sleep with. Those that do can go fuck themselves."

"Yeah, I know. It's just difficult to get used to, though … When Ryan and I joined up, you got slung out of the armed forces for being gay."

"Welcome to the 21st century. No one cares any more. The only people to play silly fuckers about me and Tom are you and Cutter, ironically."

"I know, and I'm sorry. At least I can plead guilty to being a drunken pisshead in mitigation. I dunno what Cutter's problem is. You know I found him in a gay pub the other week?"

"No way!"

"Yep. He beat a hasty retreat when I told him a few home truths, mind."

"Shit, I'd have paid good money for that!"

Lyle laughed and flipped a pile of six beer mats into the air, catching them deftly as they spun in the air. "There's no fucking way that twat's gay."

"Nope. He's just sulking because he's lost my undivided attention."

"The sooner you get a higher-paying job away from him, the better …"

"Maybe. I don't want to get chucked off the anomalies project, though. Mind you, you've done me and Tom a favour."

"How come?"

"Lester can hardly chuck us off if he's screwing you."

Lyle seemed about to snap something in response, but instead said: "Glad to be of service. That's assuming we make a go of it and he's not just after my virgin body."

"When are you seeing each other next?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Where?"

Lyle frowned. "What …?"

"Where?"

"We're going out for a meal. Then we're going caving at the weekend."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "In that case it sounds serious to me. If he just wanted to fuck the arse off you, he wouldn't bother with all the other stuff. I can't imagine Lester doing anything he doesn't want to."

Lyle smiled unwillingly. "You might be right."

"Bet you I am. Have a good time with him, Jon. If it works out, great. In the meantime, grab what fun you can while you can."

"Ever thought of going into marriage guidance?"

"Yeah, it'll be my next career move."

Lyle laughed and looked at his watch. "I'm starving. You fancy an Indian or something?"

"Not tonight, mate, I've got stuff to do. Another time, maybe."

Lyle nodded and stood up. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Stephen smiled. "No problem. See you around." He sipped his pint and watched Lyle weave his way round the tables and out of the pub. They'd both left unsaid the lingering though that Lyle would have a rougher ride of it if and when people found out. Ryan was popular; Lester was somewhere down the bottom of the table with tabloid journalists, estate agents and second-hand car salesmen.

His mobile rang. Ryan's name showed on the display. "Hey." He knew he was smiling at the sound of that familiar voice.

"Hey to you. Where are you?"

"In the pub. Just had a pint and associated angst with Jon Lyle."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Everything OK?"

"Fine. At least he spared me too much information about their sex life."

"Thank god for that. Some things are above and beyond the call of duty … Anyway, just checking you're still on for the weekend."

"You bet!"

"Good."

"Miss you, Tom." It was out before he knew what he was saying.

"Miss you too." The response was instant.

Stephen put his phone back in his jacket pocket and smiled. For the first time in his Johnny No-Mates life he felt like he'd snared the most popular boy in the school.  



End file.
